Was that sympathy? Delirium? Yanagi's words were coherent, but the gesture surprising. Genma cocked his head to the side and sponged Yanagi's face again. "My dad died when I was a little kid," he said softly. "When I was seven. He was a ninja. So was my mom. She died when I was thirteen." It felt strangely easy to sit in the semi-darkness and talk about the ghosts of his parents. At least they'd died long enough ago the pain wasn't fresh.

Not like Yumiko and Haruko.

"My older sister's a ninja, too. Was a ninja." He took a halting breath. "She and my baby sister both died when the Fox--" His voice guttered out and he looked away, past Yanagi. "My older sister, she was a doctor. Not just a field medic like me. The last time I saw her, I was on a stretcher screaming, with my shoulder torn open. The city was on fire. She had blood on her face. Someone else's, not hers."